#Jury Trial AU

[alynnl]

I understand the poetic symbolism of making Barok van Zieks stand on the dock in a closed trial.

But can you imagine the sheer drama that would have ensued from a trial by jury?

Six people with the resolve to even give the so called Reaper of the Bailey a fair trial because that is what the foundation of their justice system was built upon. Maybe one of them is the old copper from case 2-3, who's rambling about things "back in my day" helps to blow the case wide open.

Six people who refuse to be intimidated and won't call for a verdict until they've heard all the real facts.

And then the public learning just as much as Barok, Ryunosuke, Susato, Kazuma, Sholmes and Iris about the massive cover-up involving the Professor case. And perhaps the beginnings of a reform in Britain's legal system, that gives Ryunosuke ideas on how to help reform the Japanese legal system.

I didn't think a "Public Trial AU" would be so interesting until now.

[chrism02]

can you make an angst but happy ending fic with any alfred characters pls

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[bonefall]

Snowbird anon: I couldn't help myself: (this is for sh!ts and giggles, I love me an evil!Girlboss.)

Mapleshade: *sobs and apologizes to Starclan after repenting her sins, get accepted into Starclan.*

Ravenwing: "YOU'RE LETTING HER INTO STARCLAN? SHE BROKE THE CODE!"

Thunderstar: "She couldn't help who she fell in love with."

Shadowstar: "Exactly. Welcome Mapleshade."

Skystar: "Eh, I've done worse."

Grey Wing: "We know. The rest of you, get thee gone from our gate!"

Mapleshade: *inwardly cackles.*

(Also...Mapleshade/Skystar would be the evil conscious of Starclan LOL.)

Thunderstar: "Now, I'm aware that this might not make sense, seeing as you were all law-abiding citizens or just Appledusk, but you must understand. Women."

Frecklewish: "IM WOMEN!!"

Thunderstar: "Ok, but were you a girlboss? Not even killing anyone sounds like some girlemployee behavior. Not a good look."

And then he pulls a big lever that says 'HELL' on it and they all fall down a trap door. And Skystar says, "back in my day we didnt CHARGE people with TRIALS we just killed everyone who didnt like being murdered"

And it ends on a freeze frame and a laugh track

[andhumanslovedstories]

A series of Scum Villain AUs where Luo Binghe tries to romance Shen Yuan in increasingly inappropriate power differentials. Binghe is in love with his landlord and keeps missing rent payments so he can offer to pay with his body. Binghe keeps reinfecting his leg wound so he can try to seduce his home health nurse. Binghe is on trial for murder and judge Shen Yuan is like “members of the jury, please disregard that the defendant is trying to fuck me???”

[blingblong55]

Think I'm pretty -John Price NSFW

Hello, I would like to make a request, please? Court AU/ Lawyer AU Lawyer!Fem!Reader x Lawyer!Price (both as opposition) - they both in court debating over a minor case (gaz+ Soap vs neighbour) - reader representing neighbour whilst price representing soap, debating about noise policies Sorry if this idea is a bit jumble up / difficult. 😅 But tqsm!!! 🫡🫡🫡✊✊🥺 ---- F!Reader, 18+, MDNI, smut, lawyer!Price, Lawyer!Reader, oral!sex, cheating ----

A/N: I know there was no smut requested but my mind immediately needed it..sorry<3

The room is silent. Everyone in the room standing up. Both sides do not dare to look at the other. You sigh as everyone gets ordered to sit down. You, a successful lawyer and your opponent John Price have always had trouble getting along, not just because he always disagrees with you, even outside of court but also because of how cocky he is. Today, as you see him back in court, he gives you a smirk. Oh, how you wish to win this case.

"John Mactavish and Kyle Garrick versus George Allen and others." The woman so softly speaks. "Neighbourhood guidelines about noise policies in a private community, this case will be dealt with by Lord Edward." You prepare your files in hand and when the time begins, you speak up. "Judge and jury, today, we are here for the case these young and immature men have caused. The community in which both live in has already received calls upon calls for the disturbance of these two young men," you begin.

For nearly 20 minutes after your and Price's opening statements, the problem became worse. Both MacTavish and Garrick began to get louder, pointing fingers at your client. You would occasionally roll your eyes and cover your smile when you'd see Price get frustrated over his client's words.

Maybe, after all, you'd win this one.

"No, what I'm saying is, if this absolute fookin' idiot understood how speakers and parties work, we wouldn't be here!" Kyle stands up and Price has to force him to sit back down.

Your client keeping calm, just like you had ordered them to. It's easy. These two guys are showing the court how bad of neighbours they can be and before you knew it, the men whom you stood upon, sighed as once again MacTavish cussed your client.

"Here's what we'll do, and Price, keep your clients shut or they will hurt themselves more," a deep sigh, "Y/N, your client is in the right. The papers and signatures are on file. Price, your clients are meant to keep quiet, not have a rave in their backyard. If there is one more complaint, the community in which both parties are a part of, can and will have the right to hand MacTavish and Garrick an eviction notice. Y/N, your client shan't step into their yard and if it does happen, MacTavish and Garrick can receive a restraining order against Mr. Allen."

It was clear this was a long one for the court to hear.

After the trial though, the two men Price represented were told to leave before your client saw them again. It was better this way.

You shook Price's hand, and he nodded at you and smiled. "You look rather beautiful today," he says in such a soft tone that makes him appear as if he was a completely different man from the one you argued against. "You look…okay for a shit lawyer," you smile back. "Oh darling," he laughs.

You don't have time for any proper conversation and as soon as you receive all files, you leave the room. Price knows where he can find you. After all, it's always been the number one spot for you to hang out after trials and long arguments.

The small pub that welcomes you also welcomes John. "Care to tell me why you're following me?" You turn to him and he gives you a cocky grin. "What, can't I come here to just relax?" "You? No."

"Still hurt over what happened years ago?" "You stole my case, of course I am. And you knew I was asking for it so I have no idea why the hell you'd go for it."

It was a known story. After all, it's how John and you became such rivals in court. But, it never has to end like that, right?

"It's called business darling," his hand snakes over yours and before anything else can happen, you pull away.

He sighs. "What, too good for me now?" His lips touching your ear. You shift away, trying to not yell at him here. It just isn't right, especially in front of so many others who respect you. "I'm not here to be annoyed by some-" You get cut off when he places his hand around your neck. "What, darling? Say it. Hmm, am I mediocre? incompetent? don't act like you weren't fucking moaning my name years ago. You and I know well that you liked me like I did you," his voice deep and in a whisper. Your hand on his wrist.

"You and I both know that was a mistake," you answer back and he shakes his head. "Tsk, tsk, mistakes are a one-time thing. You know you slept in my bed longer than anyone else. What? Did you forget you used to fuck those pretty fingers of yours to my voice?" he chuckles, almost mocking the nights you two spend together.

He sees that you aren't budging to his questions or comments, it's frustrating. He wants you, you know he does. His body and yours are like a puzzle, the one you both know all too well about.

"Look, I know…i know I'm a selfish son of a bitch but you also have your flaws and-"

"And what are they? hm? Because at least a cheating wife or a stupid fucking face like yours is not a problem I have to face."

Oh does he love it when you bite back.

It was true, which is why he nods. "I do have a cheating wife, the face part though…that is false. You should know. I mean you rode my face almost every night, darling" A smirk grows on him.

He notices your silence.

"What, did you not enjoy how i ate that pretty pussy of yours? Or was it too good that the orgasms made you forget?" he chuckles once more.

Is it bad he needs you again? That he wishes you laid on his bed and not the mistake of a girl he married? Sure she was funny but you…oh fuck. You are smart, gorgeous, funny, sexy…fuck..you're perfect.

"My flat is just a ten-minute drive from here, you can always come…maybe pay me a visit…or two..maybe a whole holiday."

You look at him and then at the drink in your hands. You did want him, yearned for his love again.

"The guy you're talking to is no good. Now, me…I'm handsome, funny, good with my hands and mouth and…well…you know the rest."

Was it a risk? yes. Did you both want it? Yes. So…is this why now after practically thirty minutes of asking you are in his car and on the way to his place?

Once inside his flat, he doesn't waste a second and in a matter of moments, he has you on the couch, his mouth to your neck. His calloused hands take your clothes off. His cock is needy to have you again.

His lips move up, embracing you in a kiss. A much-needed one. "Fuck did I miss you, Y/N," he groans. It was more than a need for sex, but for all the other fun and good emotions, you two brought to each other. His fingers teased your folds as he removed your panties. "Hm, already wet for me? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Need to do something about this, huh love," he slowly goes down on you. His lips are attached to your precious body. From your neck to your hips, his lips ran from. Your aching cunt begging for his tongue.

Once his fingers have enough slick covering them, he pushes them deep inside. A small moan escapes your lips. Eager thing, aren't you?

His tongue lapping at your folds all as his thumb rubs your clit over and over. This is what you always needed after a long day at court.

The sensation is so good. Feels like mythical waves of pleasure but it all stops abruptly. One stupid phone call and he leaves you there. "Stay, I'll come back later tonight, love," he kisses your forehead and walks out.

If only he didn't think his wife was pretty, his hands would be all over you

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[tennessoui]

oh ho ho au where there’s been a brutal murder and all signs point towards anakin being guilty….but during the trial prep work, obi-wan, not on trial at all btw, confesses to the murder.

the prosecution knows he didn’t do it, but his dna is at the scene, there’s security photos of him close by the murder scene, there’s enough circumstantial evidence that it makes it incredibly hard to prove that he didn’t do it. there’s a ton of evidence to prove that anakin did it, but there’s also not a small amount of evidence that obi-wan did it which makes it really difficult

(anakin definitely definitely did it. but obi-wan feels an incredible amount of both guilt for the loss of life at the hands of a boy who he has vouched for so ardently in the past and also a fervent and insane devotion to anakin, and he can’t let him suffer for his crime when obi-wan could suffer for his crime instead <3 that’s the way things should be)

(anakin would snap out of his stunned stupor and tell the judge and jury that obi-wan is innocent and he’s the actual murderer, but like. it’s really hot. it’s like really hot that obi-wan’s going to give his freedom away so that anakin can live untroubled. no one’s ever loved him so much, not even the devoted wife of his sitting in the audience. this is different. this is everything. this is like. breathtaking.)

[rius-cave]

In most murder cases, if that is what Adam is charged with, he would have a trail by jury to see if they find him guilty.

Unless the prosecution wants to give him a plea deal for confessing to the crime (Say instead of being charged with 2nd degree murder it's knocked down to manslaughter for 10 years instead of 20)

Some trials are done solely by a judge but most are done by a jury. It can take years alone to go to trail and the actual days in court can take months.

So even before Adam is fully sentenced, he could be in prison at minimum a little over a year just for holding.

Hope this helps!

Oh! Interesting! Well that would certainly be a way of getting him in there and then quickly out! Hmmmm, could a year be enough to redeem this specific version of Adam...? Maybe, maybe not, I think he would need more time.

That'd be interesting. Imagine he's been in prison for a year, MAYBE starting to show signs of being better, but then he gets called in for his verdict, and he's so sure that he's going to be out of there that he does something completely stupid towards Lucifer, basically fucking up his entire process, mocking Lucifer and the rest of the inmates as well. But then, obviously, he is found guilty, and Adam has to go back there to an awaiting and angry Lucifer.

Lucifer is livid, and oh boy, he gets punished.... Hard.

This would probably be Adam's lowest point in this entire AU. Lucifer is still mad at him, but he actually starts feeling bad for him now that's definitely been sentenced. It's amidst this emotional turmoil that Adam finally, FINALLY, opens up to Lucifer, just out of sheer desperation. He tells him about his past, his childhood, his kids, the shitty life he had up until he became a cop... And then Lucifer in turn talks to him about how he got in there as well, the things he had to do to protect his daughter, the things some of the others went through that landed them in jail (Angel, Husk, Pentious, etc). Adam finally starts understanding that, just like him... Maybe not everyone in there is as bad as he made them out to be, maybe they really did not deserve to be there....

This is how Adam starts improving for real.

[koishiro]

Nymphomaniac | 방탄소년단

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Jungkook, the headmaster’s son, is just trying to make it through school unnoticed but with his academic smarts and undeniably good looks it’s no surprise when he gains the attention of a certain student

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : virgin!Jungkook x nymph!fem!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff/smut/school au

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : corruption, sub!Jungkook, loss of virginity, oral m!receiving, slight nipple play if you squint, penetration, you both make a sex tape, teaching Kook how to kiss.

main masterlist | kpop masterlist | upcoming anon asks

Gaining stares before I had even stepped foot into school was something I became used to. In fact, it was a daily occurrence at this point. Everywhere my eyes drifted were faces with downturned eyebrows and tight lips.

My steps felt heavier as murmurs reached my ears - what they said was always about me, yet never directly to me. The whispers traveled like wildfire around the school grounds; everyone seemed to know my secrets and have their own opinion on what should be done with them - none of which gave any relief or peace from the situation in hand.

Every girl's lips moved in hushed conversation as I walked through the hall, and their gazes followed me with burning intensity. The contempt was so thick that it almost felt physical. I heard snatches of whispered phrases float in the air - "disgraceful," "just like her mother" - making clear what they thought of me and my ways. But no-one dared utter these words to my face, then they would have something to gossip about.

The boys would look at me with a strange, heated hunger in their eyes. I was like an oasis of pleasure in the desert of their lives – something that could quench any thirst they may have had. My gaze and my body language seemed to be inviting them closer, as if I wanted one or more of them to take advantage of me in whatever way they wished. It felt shameless, but it also satisfied some internal craving for carnal satisfaction that drove my every action and thought.

“𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬?“ Turning around to face the boy I had been occupied with in the closet for the past 30 minutes, I sighed.

I opened my mouth to tell him no and that he should just move on to some other girl until I decided it wasn’t worth it and instead, turned around and walked off in the opposite direction.

It was times like this that would remind me of my mother, a strange kinship of sorts; as if I could feel her in my bones, see echoes of her lurking within me.

It was disconcerting and uncomfortable - like sliding into the dress she wore when I was a child, and realizing it still fit well after all these years. A reminder that everything she taught me has taken root somewhere within myself to grow or wither at its own will. Times like this made me yearn for the distance only death can bring.

Everyone in this boarding school had heard of my mother – a woman of dubious reputation, who the headmistress once described as “sowing her wild seeds”. The other students whispered when I passed by and cast judgemental glances at me as if I too would follow my mother's path. But they didn’t know that I was determined to make something better for myself, no matter how low people perceived me because of my lineage.

Nonetheless it seemed like everywhere I went all eyes were on me – judging every move and misstep like an unforgiving jury watching its victim carefully with discerning scrutiny.

I was sixteen when the diagnosis came in. Nymphomania – an insatiable craving for sexual relationships and gratification. A shadow had been cast into my life, and it seemed like no matter how hard I tried to control it, nothing worked - the cravings were always there somewhere beneath my skin, bubbling up and consuming me until all that mattered was finding a way to release them.

Masturbation could only do so much; soon enough even that wasn't enough anymore. So through trial-and-error experimentation over time, I gained a reputation amongst the boys of my neighbourhood as The Local Whore.

I straightened my back and kept my head high as I walked through the grand halls of this prestigious school. Everywhere around me were the daughters of the rich, prancing about in their designer clothing, whispering secrets behind their fingers and sizing me up with judgments hidden in their eyes. They all used their daddy’s money to get here, although I was no different.

I clasped my hands together, feeling the edges of my fingernails press into the soft flesh of my palms; a reminder that although I was no different - it had been a long road that had brought me to where I am now.

My father's teachings still echoed in my ears: insistent, unbending and unyielding in his belief that God alone could help me become who he wanted me to be. Little did he know, if only he could see me now - standing here on this threshold between two disparate worlds - how wrong his once convinced assumption were.

I had convinced myself that he chose this school over any other simply to pretend, possibly forget, that he even had a daughter. He’d take this opportunity to fix what was left of his reputation back home. After-all, “𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳“ as my father liked to remind me.

The school was like something out of a fantasy book, with it's broken brick walls and long narrow corridors. It seemed to exude an air of respect - the colour black ran through its veins, ironically the colour of sin, from the carpets lining the floor, to the trophy cabinets that decorated its walls.

Everywhere you looked there was something mysterious and spine-tingling about it; almost as if you were surrounded in darkness despite being standing in full light. Every footstep echoed throughout this old building making for a seemingly never ending playing field for exploration.

The building loomed over the campus, two stories high and multi-winged with rows of windows looking out on a sprawling intercontinental view. Its walls were pale gray brick and its roofs vermillion slate, an unusual yet distinct combination that resonated grandeur in its tallest spires.

The entrance hall was wide enough for four people to pass without shoulders brushing; within were two connected wings built side by side – one pink granite the other white marble – signifying gender separation due to firm religious beliefs held by those inhabiting it's spaces. Deep down inside these walls resided 500 students following their separate schedules from breakfast through dinner.

Although they didn’t do a very good job at separating us considering we still had to pass one another in the halls on occasion in order to traverse other parts of campus.

The school was a large white structure set back from the road. The front driveway coiled around neatly trimmed trees, and garden beds decorated with vibrant flowers lined the entrance walkway like soldiers on parade. From afar, it looked like an ivory castle; up close it revealed its immensity- straight lines of classrooms flanked by geometric terraces of dormitories that seemed to stretch for miles in either direction.

Inside there was a large reception office staffed by friendly faces all too eager to please visitors, within it were walls covered in cabinets full of trophies earned from countless victories in sports and academics alike.

I had been transferred here a few months prior under the instruction to finish my senior year unless I want to stay here another year by failing, that was not going to happen.

But that still wouldn’t stop me from having my fix.

But it also meant I needed to find myself a tutor, and fast.

I ventured through a labyrinth of silent halls and corridors, each one a mirror to the last. Everywhere I went seemed to draw me further inwards; closer to an unknown destination that even the most experienced navigator would struggle with.

I trudged down the empty hallways of the school, my feet dragging somewhat as I made my way towards the study hall. A bright light shone out from an open doorway and when I looked up to see what it was that beckoned me closer, no less than an angelic figure stood before me.

His brown hair was thick and slightly wavy, with a tousled look, almost having a golden sheen to it from the sunlight streaming through the arched windows at one end of the hallway; His eyes were like two pools of melted chocolate, deep and rich. He smiled slightly as he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out except for a few notes from some unheard song playing.

From beneath the thin frame of his glasses, two round lenses like a pair of moons framed a pair of shining golden-brown eyes that reached out to capture the warm rays of their own miniature sun within themselves. They glinted with every motion he made, each sparkle or twinkle depicting an emotion he held so deeply and passionately in his heart.

His facial features were a mosaic of perfection. Dark brown curls cascading past his ears, framed by high-cut cheekbones and an angular jawline flecked with the faintest of stubble that I longed to run my finger across. His lips were thin and delicate, rosy in hue and slightly parted with a small mole just below adding an extra layer of charm — almost as if it was begging for a kiss. With every feature I beheld, my heartbeat quickened faster until I found myself unconsciously crossing one leg over the other in sudden need.

He was lean and toned, his muscles standing out subtly beneath the crisp fabric of his white button-up shirt. Although it did nothing to conceal his shape, the garment lent him a certain refinement that was offset by the sleek black slacks he'd chosen to wear. Completing this modern silhouette was a bag slung around his neck.

He was tall and well-groomed with a chiseled jawline that seemed to be carved from granite, his thick, dark hair was a wild tangle of curls, obscuring his vision and causing him to pause in frustration. He slowly raised a hand with pale blue veins running through it and swept aside the stubborn locks, revealing his gentle brown eyes that had been hidden by the mass of hair. As our gaze connected for an instant, I saw his cheeks flush crimson like flames dancing on kindling wood.

I knew who he was, how could I not?

Jeon Jungkook was one of the many tutors on campus, and his specialty lay in poetry and fiction. He read voraciously, soon turning to painting and ceramics as well. Wherever he went, he had a book tucked into his arm or peeping out of some bag on his back like an extra limb; when girls stopped him to ask for help with their own work, instead of putting down the novel or essay in his hand as most would have done - uncomfortable from being caught reading – Jungkook held onto it tightly as if afraid it might vanish if not clung to with enough force.

But that’s not what caught my interest, no.

He was the son of the Headmaster, he was off limits. He couldn’t be any more perfect if he tried.

Luckily for me, I was in need of a tutor and I wasn’t going to settle for just any tutor.

Thankfully we were allowed to have a tutor of any sex as long as there was a person of authority to watch over. Considering my target was the headmaster’s son, there was no need for a third person, he was trustworthy in the board’s eyes. A sinless being.

I just had to figure out how to approach him without scaring him off.

I followed Jungkook into the quiet study room, my mind spinning with plans. He continued on towards a back room, producing a small silver key from his pocket to unlock it before walking in alone. My footsteps were nearly silent against the aged hardwood floors as I made my way closer to where he had gone until an unexpected slam caught me off guard and sent my heart racing.

I took the opportunity to poke my head in, cautious but curious. My eyes landed on Jungkook, in his school uniform with his sleeves rolled up and revealing veiny arms. His hands raked through his locks frenetically as he leaned his elbows on his knees in front of a canvas screwed up tight with colors ranging from yellow to red, seemingly an old painting with how dry the paint was; it looked like a battle between light and dark was taking place much like the inner battle he was having. I felt mesmerized by the sight; it seemed even more beautiful because of Jungkook's fury evident upon his face while he crafted what appeared to be yet another masterpiece.

The room was of decent size, with a carpeted floor tucked under layers of dust sheets that served to protect it from any stains Jungkook might throw its way. A large black-framed window at the front travelled up towards the ceiling, creating a pitched skylight as if it were a centerpiece overlooking the back of the school. Along one wall ran an expansive shelf system - books and pottery pieces spilled out in this makeshift archive - while opposite leaned three easels for paintings and sketches he had been working on.

The room was alive with the glow of possibility. Canvases were propped against the walls haphazardly, their unfinished stories waiting to be completed. Paintbrushes and pencils spilled out of cups on an old desk tucked away in a corner, forming their own miniature rainbow beneath the soft light shining from a paper lamp nearby. All that remained now was for someone to take up those tools and paint something beautiful into existence.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, hands buried in his hair. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand while raising the other to sweep away fallen strands of brown hair from across his forehead. His eyes were a deep brown as he looked off into the distance, taking a moment to think, breathe.

He stood in front of the canvas and surveyed the palette, eyes narrowed and deep in thought. At last he reached forward with sure hands, taking a brush from its holder before selecting two tubes of paint. As I watched on as if transfixed by a spell, he put them together on his brush then blended them together into an orange-hued swirl which seemed alive to me - undulating between reds and yellows but never settling completely either hue. With slow purposeful strokes amplified by deliberation that seemed almost religious in devotion to creation, he slowly placed each drop onto the canvas where it lay shimmering like a living thing.

Until the stupid door creaked and his eyes met mine.

I didn’t let this falter me though and instead entered the room to admire my surroundings and him further, leaving my bag near the door.

"Y-Y...n," His deep voice caught me off guard, rumbling through my body with a feeling of admiration. How had he known my name? I suppose being the Principal's son had its benefits, although it was neither told nor asked for. Nonetheless, his choice of words and delivery sent a shiver down my spine - that made me want to hear him say it over and over again.

He sounded small, shy… nervous.

”I-Is there something I can help you with?” He set his paintbrush down and rose to meet me as I crossed the room towards his desk in the far corner of his makeshift studio.

I ran my fingers along the criss-crossed grains of weathered wood, tracing flowery patterns left by long forgotten layers of paint. My eyes drifted up slowly until they connected with his soft, comforting yet shy gaze through an almost tangible bond that seemed to echo throughout the room.

“Yes actually, you’re going to tutor me” I said without hesitation.

“I need help getting out of this shit hole” I now stood in front of him as I heard him suck in a breath.

“M-My help?” I nod my head in reply, “I’m failing my lectures and according to someone, you seem to be passing all of them. If I don’t pass by the end of the year, your father and mine are going to keep me here for another year and in no way is that happening.

Lightly I traced my fingers up his chest, exploring the contours of his form with delicate precision. As I reached the base of his neck, my fingertips met with a loose tie that had managed to escape its own confines and was now splayed across one side of our bodies.

Pausing for a moment as if in thought, I carefully straightened it before smoothing out any creases from within his shirt that had been left in strife by this foreign presence. As my hands brushed against his torso gently guiding itself along each thread as though reading braille, all the while I continued my explanation.

“And who better to teach me the ways of a long and sinless life than the headmaster's son” I finish, tilting my head to the side.

“I-I’m not sure-”

“Would there be no way of convincing you otherwise?” He switched his eyes back and forth between mine, his pink blush turning am even deeper red, if that was possible.

“I c-can’t tutor girls” His eyes flickered away from my gaze, and he shuffled a bit on the spot while he glanced up at me with sheepish eyes that betrayed both shyness mix of nervousness.

“And why’s that Jungkook? Do you get nervous?” I said with a twinkle in my eye and a teasing smile on my lips.

“G-god wouldn’t-” Before he could finish his sentence, I stepped forward and interjected with a graceful firmness. Stark stillness descended upon us and seemed to stretch on for an eternity as my hands slowly moved from their place on his tie until they rested firmly atop his chest. His gaze followed mine as we both watched the slow journey of him being guided gently backwards towards where he sat earlier.

“Let me guess, God wouldn’t approve hm? Is that what you were going to say?” Pushing him down to sit on the chair, I now stood over him which didn't last long as I soread my legs to straddle him, taking the time to get comfortable.

Jungkook, face now red with a surprised expression as if he had died and gone to heaven, placed his hands out as if he were caught red handed making sure to keep the remnants of wet paint away from us both - how thoughtful.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I continued, “How anout this, one lesson. I need to show my teachers and your father that i’m trying in my studies so i’m not a waste of their time and I currently need to pass at least one class. Considering you already have an easel and paint out, we can start here. If I get a B+ or higher we’ll continue our tutoring sessions but if I don’t we can stop. Sound fair?”

Still frozen in shock, all Jungkook could manage was a slight gulp as he repeatedly blinked in astonishment. Taking that as a yes, I turned around to face the easel, all prepped amd ready to use.

“So, where do we begin?”

I had always thought that watching someone go through the tedious task of setting up an easel and arranging paint palettes wouldn’t be that appealing. But then Jungkook came into the picture with his broad-shoulders and angular jaw, ready to begin his work, and my heart raced faster than any art class could.

His sensual movements displayed a kind of grace that made me painfully aware of how sex-deprived I was in comparison to him – here he was bringing beauty out of thin air, while all I wanted to do was to drag him to the floor and have my way with him.

His veiny hands, covered in now dry paint, as he set up an array of paint ready to use.

“What’s first?” I rose from his lap to rid myself of my clothing. With a single motion I removed my shirt and flung it on the pile of our discarded clothing.

The cool air rushed across my exposed skin as I removed my skirt. It joined its pile of clothing with a satisfactory thud. He paused, gazing on this new landscape as if memorizing every detail before reverting to his own state of semi-undress.

I had always thought that watching someone go through the tedious task of setting up an easel and arranging paint palettes wouldn’t be that appealing. But then Jungkook came into the picture with his broad-shoulders and angular jaw, ready to begin his work, and my heart raced faster than any art class could.

His sensual movements displayed a kind of grace that made me painfully aware of how sex-deprived I was in comparison to him – here he was bringing beauty out of thin air, while all I wanted to do was to drag him to the floor and have my way with him.

His veiny hands, covered in now dry paint, as he set up an array of paint ready to use.

“What’s first?” I rose from his lap to rid myself of my clothing. With a single motion I removed my shirt and flung it across the room, creating a pile of discarded clothing.

The cool air rushed across my exposed skin as I removed my skirt. It joined the pile with a satisfactory thud. He paused, gazing on this new landscape as if memorizing every detail before reverting to his own state of semi-undress.

“What's with that look? I don’t want my uniform to get dirty now do I?” I once again made myself comfortable on his lap between his spread legs as he clears his throat in shock.

I decided to paint a butterfly, something of purity. Jungkook tells me to start mixing the colours I need which he had set in front of me a few minutes before.

I began started with the outline, starting from the head and leading my way to the wings. Ten minutes passed by before I began seeing everything wrong with my so-called painting.

“I don’t think I’m doing this right” I could feel his stiff posture behind me, hesitating untik I felt his bare chest - shirt now unbuttoned to avoid any staining, displaying the silver cross necklace around his neck, slightly brushing against my back. “Can I - um - help… you?”

I nod and he lightly places his hands on top of my own just enough to guide me. He leads my hands across the canvas, leaving a hue of blues in it’s path.

Once the basics are done, Jungkook decides we were done for the day. Facing him, I push myself further onto his lap, “I-I’ll let you know when we can continue… this”

Jungkook trailed off when I pressed my hand against his chest, the still wet paint paint covering my hand left a print on his chest, marking him.

"Y’know, you’re really skilled with your hands” I trailed my eyes from the open shirt, exposing his lean chest up towards his eyes where they switched nervously between my own as I sloely lean in.

“Makes me want to put them to better use” I lift myself up slightly, causing his paint-coated hands fall to my ass.

Just as our lips were about to meet he backed up, “I-I’ve never… kissed anyone… before” if my heart was to fail me, it would be in this moment.

“B-But I want to kiss you Y/n, I want you to be my first kiss - I just don’t know… how” He professed, allowing a tint to coat his cheeks.

His eyes continued to switched between my own before taking their chance to catch sight of my lips.

I used my finger to lift his chin, leaning in closer to his lips to the point where I could feel the softness of them against my own and just about make out the lone mole beneath his bottom lip.

“Then kiss me Jungkook” I watched the nervousness take over his features. Doubt began to circle his eyes. “I’m not stopping you”

“I d-don’t know… I wouodn’t want to ruin it… can you - please” when he begins to fumble on his words I lean in, keeping my eyes on his perfect lips awaiting my kiss.

I run my finger over his bottom lip, Jungkook’s brown doe eyes turning a shade darker and the shin of the moonlight creeping in through the window was not hiding the look of want and need in our eyes.

“Can I do what Jungkook?” I pushed him further, enjoying the way he writhed underneath me.

“I want you to teach me how to kiss you properly, please Y/n” I couldn’t hold back any longer, not when any sight of purity in his eyes had disappeared, now replaced with want, need, sin.

I bring our lips together, I could already imagine the expression he held - eyebrows raised to the heavens, eyes blown wide and frozen in shock. What I didn’t expect was for Jungkook to suddenly give my ass a soft squeeze resulting in a hum to pass through from my lips to his.

My hands make their way across his back until I reach the back of his neck, leading to his hair and tugging his head back a little.

I took that moment to assess my work. Lips turned a nice, swollen red, eyes dazed and his mouth letting iut the softest of pants. Jungkook moves forward to reconnect our lips but frowns when I move back.

“Someone’s impatient hm?” I reached my arms back to loosen my bra, just enough to allow him a small glimpse of my nipple.

While doing so, I brought his dazed yet still shy smile to my lips, kissing both corners before continuing our kiss, taking the note of the soft moan extending from his throat.

My hands now explored his chest and iver his arms while my hips roll in a way that makes him pause the kiss to inhale sharply.

The cool wind blows upon us from the window, causing goosebumps to rise and my nipples to harden. This time I’m the one who’s caught off guard when I feel warm lips pressed to my chest, focusing themselves between the valley of my breats.

“You’ve gained confidence” I try to laugh a little to keep him at ease but it’s short lived when when he nips at my skin before adjusting his seating causing his bulge to to push against my aching clit.

Jungkook looks at my chest, and the trail of saliva and the fingerprints he’s leaving over my body as if he was taking a oicgure with his eyes.

Then he gets this look in his eyes as if he just had the grandest of ideas waiting to be revealed. His eyes flicked up to me, and it’s killing me how ready my body was for him.

“I-I have an art commission to submit in a week… for the university I want to attend and I need to submit something I find beautifully interesting and I - um - …I couldn’t think of anything until now… I’ve been putting it off until earlier …where I just slapped a few colours on a canvas…” he look down at our laps as if ready for my rejection.

“Are you saying you want to use my body to get you into college?” Jungkook furiously blushes at my blunt response.

“I won’t show your face and I’ll cover anything inappropriate. I’ll only photograph your body, nothing else I promise”

“I undersif you say no, it’s not something you hear someone ask you everyday, and I -”

“I’ll do it” I press my finger against his lips keeping my own to my finger, “but, I expect payment in return”

I could almost see his mind racing, trying out what I meant by - “payment?” I give him a wink as my own response but then he shifts again, his bulge still very much apparent.

“When do we start? I’m just a little too exited to have your hands all over me” if only he could understand the true meaning of my words.

Jungkook fumbles over his words a little bit before giving out a clear response.

“Would…would it be okay to start now… if that’s okay with you of course”

Slipping off Jungkook’s lap, I take the time to admire his ‘studio’ of sorts as he gathers the supplies needed for his submission. Paintings, what looked to be his, adorned the wall, books on other artists filled his shelves and an array of pottery pieces decorated the cabinets.

I turn to find him watching, smiling. “Don’t mind me, continue” I take an apple from a ceramic bowl I’m sure he made himself and take a bite, his eyes following every movement.

He gulped as he watched a trail of juice slowly glide it’s way down my chin, dropping to my chest.

“I-I’m ready… if you are” he finishes with a whisper without tearing his eyes away.

“Where do you want me?” This seed to snap him out of his daze, clearly having something else on his mind.

“Sorry?”

“Where do you want me positioned?” I clarified, setting down the apple. “O’oh - uhm - would over there be okay?”

Pointing to the only empty space in the room, he began setting up his camera with a clean dust sheet and a white wall as my backdrop. I made my way over, settling down on my knees with my hands placed in front - ready to be positioned any way he wanted.

Lifting up his camera and pointing it towards me, Jungkook visibly froze, taking me in. His eyes scanning over every inch of my body making me feel naked - maybe it would be better if I was.

Concluding this would be a better idea, I raised my right hand towards the strap of my bra and slowly pull it over my shoulder, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

"W-What are you doing?" I could practically see his heart ready to burst out of his chest like a comedy skit.

"I'm making it easier for you, wouldn't want the straps of my bra to be in shot now would we?" Jungkook made no move to capture any shots, just continuing to stare at my bra that was barely hanging on.

"Don't mind me, continue" I repeated the same words from earlier, "wouldn't want my photographer to get distracted" his eyes running over my cleavage as the blush begins to rise along his face.

Jungkook was still standing a fair distance away as I continued to tease him "Why are you so far away? surely you can't get any detailed shots from over there"

Stalking forward, he raised the camera level to his face as I heard the continuous shutter urging me on to proceed with my 'modelling'. My hands drifted from the tops of my thighs, across my stomach and leading towards my breasts, pushing them together as I stared straight into the lens of the camera, no doubt making contact with his own.

Continuing my many poses I leaned forward until I supported my weight on my hands and knees, my favourite position. Undoubtedly jungkooks too it looked like, with his tongue poking from between his lips and eyes trying not to linger for too long as to make me uncomfortable.

Crawling towards him as if he were my prey - no sudden movements as to startle him, I slipped my fingers between the loops of his school trousers, drawing him closer.

My hand wandered up towards the hand that helped support his camera, grasping his fingertip and letting it glide across the soft skin of my cheek, towards my lips where I placed a gentle kiss to the tip before letting them run down my neck, slower and slower down my chest, stopping at the valley between my breasts.

I guide his hand to push off the other strap of my bra before letting his hand grasp my breast. His mouth falling ajar, I close my eyes for a second, liking how his hand brings more warmth to my body.

"I bet she wonders what it would feel like if you touched her or how it would feel to please you herself, I bet she was thinking about it the entire time" I refer back to Adi from earlier.

Jungkook's eyes dart back to mine again, "but she'll never know, will she?" he shakes his head.

"And why's that?" I inclined

"B-Because I only want you to please me, Y/n" My eyes almost roll to the back of my head, his voice comes out deeper, sinned with lust.

I leaned up as far as I could on my knees to grasp Jungkook by the collar, his silver cross dangling in my face as if daring me to tarnish everything he'd ever known. Leading him by the collar and causing him to lean forward, I moved towards his ear, allowing his eyes to take in the rounds of my tits, "I know, I just wanted to hear you say it"

"Y/n... I want-" he cuts himself off as if the sinful words had burnt him, forbidding him from letting his desires take control.

"You want what Kookie? You have to say it" I slowly let my gaze wander down to the hard-on in his slacks, he had to be uncomfortable from the restrictions of his pants.

"Do you want me to touch you Kookie? Is that what you want? I need you to use your words or I won't know what it is you want" He visibly gulps, biting his lower lip as my hand only slowly creeps its way down from the collar of his shirt towards his aching dick before moving away back to his thigh.

"Y/n... please... can you touch me?" I almost moan just by the desperation in his voice, I begin to unbuckle his belt, running my hand over his bulge before taking him out of his slacks

Now standing straighter, Jungkook stood towering over me, the camera held in his hand lay limp by his side.

I sucked in a harsh breath, he was big. So fucking big and perfect.

I never believed in the saying that it was always the quiet ones but fuck was I a believer now. "I-Is this alright?" I just about managed to tear my eyes away and turning my gaze to him, almost like he wanted to hide himself away because I had been staring for far too long.

The sight of his pre-cum waiting at the tip of dick, teasing me.

"It's perfect, so damn perfect" Jungkook visibly relaxed a little but that didn't stop him from blushing harder.

"Why don't you start recording hm? that way you can capture more shots without having to focus, consider this as your payment" I instruct as I use my index finger to run up the base of his dick, Jungkook letting his mouth fall open with a nod.

Slowly and with a small shake of his hand, he lifted the camera in time to capture me squeeze the head of his dick, making him release a moan that could make anyone wet or pass out.

Using one hand I reach behind me to unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor while the other kept a hold on his dick. I pushed out my chest, causing his entire face to go red.

"Do you fantasise about them? How soft they would feel in your hand, massaging them? Or having them wrapped around your cock while I look at you with such innocent eyes until you cum?" stroking him with an occasional twist of my hand.

"Or how good they'd look in your mouth?" I wanted... no, needed to touch myself but this was about him, my little kookie.

"Oh my..." I watched his chest heave up and down, my nipples pushed out even more.

"I bet you would love to feel my lips around you, sucking and letting my tongue tease over your tip. The feeling of wanting to cum over my tits or deep down my throat, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you" He quickly nods his head and I don't think he's realised he's admitted to it.

"You're so hard Jungkook, you're being so good for me right now" his hips bucked up, his muscles bulging under the sleeves of his shirt allowing me to make a mental note that he liked to be praised.

"Y/n... I'm - I - I... oh please keep going" His words became a complete mess as he grew closer, he throbbed in my hand. I wasn't planning on stopping.

"Cum for me Kookie, let me make you feel good" I sped up the pace of my hand, making sure to run my thumb over the tip before using his pre-cum as lubricant to squeeze the base of him.

Jungkook went to bite down on his lip but I tapped his thigh making him stop his actions. "I want to hear you, cum in my hand" he never looked away, even when I thought he would, he didn't.

With each twist of my hand, I knew only one thing would set him off completely.

Almost as if he knew something was coming, my eyes shined with a devious glint.

I places a short kiss to the tip of him setting him off, making him squeeze his hands into fists causing his veins to pop. I placed another one on the base of his dick, the second kiss making him lean his head back and his shoulders sag as his thighs tense on either side of me.

I was pressing my thighs together almost painfully to where my knees dug into the wooden floor watching him unravel in my hand.

His brown hair was now wet due to sweat, sticking to his forehead and glasses slipping from their original position. Sweat droplets running down his panting chest I so desperately wanted to lick.

When he calmed down, he said nothing. I got up from the floor and grabbed the camera he had still been holding and placed it on a side table, continuing the recording.

We weren't finished yet, far from it.

I made my way back to Jungkook and took a hold of his hands, leading him to step out of his now fallen pants and over to where I was originally posed but this time, I had him on his knees.

My pretty boy.

Placing my hands on his head, combing through his damp strands with his head tilted back and eyes blissfully closed, I let them wander down to his neck and over his shoulders. Sinking to my knees to gain more access with my hands I continued my wandering across his chest, feeling it constantly begin to lift and fall.

I continued my travels down over his abs that I dream of kissing my way down to scratch with my nails as I ride him until we both cum.

I lick my lips and admire the sight in front of me, my little Kookie in nothing but his unbuttoned shirt. I rub over his dick, giving him an occasional squeeze as I kiss the spot below his ear.

"Did you like it when I did this?" I squeeze him one more time and he responds by releasing a small whimper, urging me to continue my assault.

Releasing the grip I had, I placed my hands on his chest once again, gently pushing him to lay on his back, letting me straddle him as he finally cracks open his eyes to stare at me with those big doe eyes of his.

He watched me carefully and let his body relax when I brushed his tip with my thumb. My hand hardly fit around him going down the base.

can already tell by the way he's looking at me more than anything else that he's nervous.

"Shouldn't I... uhm. I read that I could make you feel good if I..." He dropped his eyes between my thighs and fully blushed.

I covered his lips with my own, my bare chest meeting his. When I pull away he's blushing even more, his eyes can't seem to figure where to focus.

"Just let me take care of you, okay?" He responds with a shy nod, I bite my lip at all the ideas I had planned for the future.

It may not be my first time but it is his and the last thing I want is to overwhelm him knowing that he's trusting me to be his first time.

So I start slow, leaving painfully sow kisses from his sharp jaw, making a trail down to his neck. The spot where his pulse lies is beating against my lips, telling me he's not only nervous but that he wants it as much as I do.

I push myself lower, kissing down his chest until I get to his unbelievably and perfectly cut abs which rise at the rhythm of his chest.

He licks his lips and it makes me want to kiss them and bite on them like I know he loves and turn them red until we're breathing like maniacs.

I graze my fingertips up the sides of his shaft, Jungkook's body tensing and calming down as my lips come in contact with him, I kiss from the tip all the way down as if I was making sure he never forgets the print of my lips on him.

My lips finally part around his cock, I arch my back so he can see the curve of my ass and the two dimples staring back at him.

My left hand works the middle section of cock while my tongue swirls around his head. I hollow out my cheeks, bringing out my cheekbones more, and to hear the "mmphs" coming from him as keeps a hand through his hair, tugging on it slightly.

I twist my hand up and down on him, liking how he unravels simply by my hand and mouth. I continue to pump him while flicking my tongue over his tip which makes him let out a deep breath.

My lips are probably glossed by now and my hair must be absolutely everywhere. His hand reaches out and pushes the hair that's fallen over my shoulder back to get a better view of my face.

"I-I like watching... you" It's hard for me to keep myself going, I could never have imagined Jungkook ever saying things like that.

When I remove him from my mouth, I can tell he was close but I didn't want him to cum just yet.

"We're not done yet" Jungkook continued to pant while I reached over into my bag I had left by the door and dug through to find a condom, followed by the loss of my underwear.

Jungkook sat up straighter, both of our eyes were glued to each other as I rolled the condom onto him, I slowly crawled myself to his side.

"If it becomes too much just tap my thigh twice and I'll stop" I remind him and I swing my other leg on the other side of his thigh.

I guide him between my clit, coating the condom with my wetness. Making sure I kept eye contact with him before pressing the head at my entrance and slowly sinking down. When I feel half of him inside me, we break eye contact and my mind turns off.

Fuck.

The room was silent other than the sound of both our moans being mixed together.

It felt like I was a virgin all over again, I had to let myself adjust to his size, I knew it wasn't going to be easy to fit him inside of me and fuck was he big.

Looking back at Jungkook, he had his head tilted back on the floor, his Adam's Apple bobbed and his neck covered in a sheet of sweat. I burned the image into my head.

If I could take a picture of this I would, but I guess the video would have to suffice I thought as I turned my head and stared straight at the camera, giving a little wink.

Turning my attention back to Jungkook, "Are you okay?" I managed to control myself for his well-being. "Do you still want to do this?"

"Y - You... t - this... I can't even think straight" He pants. "I still want this... with you" Everytime he opened his mouth I felt myself pulsing around him, causing whimpers to slip from his tongue.

I feel the vibrations of chest when I begin to move, he grunts with need, and my body jerks.

"Please keep g-going" He begged, his hands on my hips, and my hips began to move down on top of him, my chest was close to his face while his eyes were solely focused on me.

My hips rock themselves on their own accord, I focus on the way his body reacts, how his eyes try to flutter close but he won't let them.

"I like it when y - you do that" Jungkook leans his head back once more but I grab his jaw and direct his head back to me.

"Tell me what you like, tell me everything you like that I do that makes you feel good" I slowly rolled my hips in the same action and his mouth falls open and that damned groan that could make anyone incredibly horny just from hearing it caused me to do it again.

"T - That, when you go slow like that... I like that a lot" I repeat the action and this time I lift myself and drop on him causing soft whimpers to leave him before he can catch them.

"A - And when you... when you kiss me while you bounce like... Y/n don't stop" Our lips colliding and my lower half continues to connect down onto his.

He closes his eyes when I continue to lift and drop back down in repeated actions and pause to roll my hips down but I tap his cheek.

"Look at me Kookie, don't you think I look pretty when I ride you?" i bite my lip with a smile, knowing it's hard for him to get any clear form of a sentence out.

His eyes are half-lidded like he can't keep his eyes open. He pushes his hair out of his face and kept his eyes locked with mine.

"Mhm, I - I think you look... Y/n you're going to have to stop if you want me to answer you... I can't talk when you feel like this or when you move like that" This only caused me to speed up my pace, my hips rolling in a way which makes his nails pinch into my skin.

I feel myself clenching around him, I would be a fucking liar if I said I didn't feel so good right now.

Every time I feel his cock leave and enter me, my mind can't seem to think of anything else other than driving us both to finish.

I place my hands on his shoulders and this time it's my head being thrown back as I ride him faster and faster, I feel my body let go and enjoy the pleasure and it feels as if I had finally got my fix of a drug as If I was having withdrawals.

His hair was sticking to his forehead and his brown eyes were studying me. They were watching every facial expression I made when I felt him his deeper inside of me each time I dropped down onto him. They study how my body reacts when his hands meet my skin and how my nipples ache to feel his tongue.

He reads me like a book, leaning forward I feel the warmth of his tongue on one of my nipples and my other being rolled between his index and middle finger.

"Fuck how did you..." He manages to get me to say as I roll this time and feel my entire body heat and melt.

I remember how I also read that women gain pleasure from this kind of stimulation... and I like the sounds you make when I do it, do you like it?" Did he not hear me? Or did he just like being told how skilled his tongue was becoming by the minute?

He stares up at me while he continues to swirl his tongue around the bud and squeezes at my other boob, my pussy wraps around him like a vice making him release a string of moans around my nipple and it sends waves of pleasure through my body.

"Shit..." I grind my hips into him at a rhythm that makes him stop and drop his head between my breasts.

His hands instinctively fly to my waist, guiding me at the same pace my hips move. I lift his head by gently grabbing his hair.

"Let me see how good I feel, don't look away from me" I watch the pleasure write itself across his face, his eyes say it all and his moans only encourage me further, he couldn't hide it even if he wanted to.

My hips buck and he lifts his own to match mine which causes me to grip around him. I felt like cumming on the spot when I felt the warmth oh his tongue on my neck.

Jeon Jungkook was giving me hickies, from my neck to the top of my breasts while he whimpered against my skin as if he couldn't help it.

"Y - You just feel too good... so good" His eyes are slipping closed again but he doesn't let them, his nails dig into my hips and the sting feels so good, my own nails scratch down his chest and abs as I've been wanting to do from the start.

My hands slide up his body to hold onto his muscles and my hips buck faster into his.

Jungkook's breathing was ragged, all over the place, my body was set on eagerness, and I arched my back into into his body. Jungkook wrapped his arms around my waist tighter and brought me closer, I rose my head to face the ceiling, sounds left me almost pathetically.

"I - If you keep moving your hips like that, you're going to make me cum" His jaw tightened, I slid my hand through his brown hair and pulled his head back.

"That's what I want, I want you to cum for me Jungkook" His hips tense below me when his cock throbs inside me, and his face flushes deeply.

Not only was he close but so was I, all I could focus on in that moment was the that stupid cross necklace as if shaking its head at me in disappointment.

"Y/n..." I made sure to watch how he moaned my name and how he squeezed my hips tightly while his hips bucked as I kept going.

He twitched inside of me, no doubt filling the condom and mouth dropped open as I could feel every drop he let out. It caused my body to writhe against his, shuddering while I moaned his name as if it was the only word in my vocabulary.

I dropped my head against him, our bodies felt stuck together, combining into one like they didn't want to be apart from the other.

It took us two minutes to calm down, my chest was heaving against his and my throat felt sore from all the moaning as well as the nice sting from the marks he left on my neck and hips.

Lifting my head to look at his face I wiped the corners of his eyes with my thumbs, ridding the post-sex tears that threatened to fall.

Once he eventually opened his eyes, I took the liberty of checking over him, making sure he was okay.

Once I concluded he was, my attention was brought back to the chain around his neck.

a symbol of innocence, faith, purity.

Combing back his damp hair, I leaned towards his ear, "Think of me when you try and pray your sins away tonight"

Let’s hope his father never comes across this video.

thank you @mikrokosmosjk for waiting so patiently >.&lt;

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

[dbandbanart]

It seems to me that if Phoenix had a normal phone, he would take pictures of absolutely everything: his relatives, nature, food, etc. I'm sure he has a gallery of funny photos of Miles taking his objections in court (Wright took a picture of him while he was watching the trial from the jury's rostrum).

*Wrightworth baby - AU *    

[llamagoddessofficial]

What if MC in the Prisoner!AU was the boys’ attorney?

@recklesslycaffeinated au where Don convinced Reader to go into law with him, lol

Mc is a defence attorney who often defends monsters pro bono. It can be difficult for them to navigate the complex human legal system, and she’s there to help.

Sans: They got along well from the start. Sans is charming, smart, and gives off such a harmless aura. Although she got the sense some of his niceness was for show, he was still helpful and polite, and he seemed really interested in the legal processes. As his defence attorney, Mc is privy to a lot of information that not many other people get to see. She digs into his old records in preparation for his trial... and she starts to see some worrying patterns. As such, despite Sans’ persona, she wisens up to what he’s really like a lot faster than her nurse & asylum counterparts. He seems sweet, for sure, but the records she’s digging through paint a portrait of a different monster entirely.

... But she tries her hardest to treat him well, and get him a fair trial regardless. It’s not her job to be the jury. It’s her job to make sure the jury can do their job.

Initially, Sans was sweet to her in the hopes that it would bore her and convince her he’s harmless. The last thing he needed is some human lawyer discovering his past, and stopping his ‘mission’. But... then he started getting attached. Very attached. He started falling in love. Now, he’ll do anything he can to stay close to his little lawyer- and to protect their future together, he’ll do anything to prevent her from finding out just how high his EXP really is, and how deep the rabbit hole of his past goes. 

Red: Their relationship is a somewhat fraught one. He adores her and is a relentless flirt, trying to get her to be his, meanwhile she desperately tries to maintain professional boundaries, unwilling to get involved with the head of a mob. Though she first was intimidated by him, she now just considers him a big (annoyingly charming) nuisance. They met after she defended some of his underlings and successfully kept a few out of jail, without realising just who they were working for, and now anytime it’s his turn to face legal music he ignores all the expensive lawyers his brother wants him to take and goes straight to her.

She’s so cute. He loves her. He loves how she tries so hard to paint him as a half decent guy when taking press statements, he loves the way she glares at him if he starts saying dumb things in interviews. He’s got bribes running through the whole legal system at this point, from judges to juries, he just likes being able to spend time with her during trials. 

Is he committing minor, easy-to-defend crimes, just so he can hire her as his attorney and enjoy taking up her time? Perhaps. He’ll be pleadin’ the fifth on that one.

Skull: The human-eating beast we all know and love. He has very little left in his head- nobody else would take his defence, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t do her best to help. And despite his... reputation... she decides to take his case. The gory details of it all deeply upset her, but her aim for his trial isn’t to say he didn’t do it- it’s just to successfully plead insanity and get him placed in care instead of in a prison. Sans actually helps her out a little, telling her about how monster Souls can warp after tragedies, which she hopes is grounds for arguing that Skull was under duress and didn’t act with malice or forethought. While his case goes on, he’s held in a specialised facility. She decides to start visiting him face-to-face regularly, just to get a sense of him... tell him about how his case is going. Maybe it’ll help him, if he understands he’s got someone on his side through this.

Their meetings take place with him fully tied down and masked. Animalistic or no, he’s still legally entitled to meetings with his lawyer. Unlike his prison self, this Skull hasn’t been rotting in a cell for years- he’s fresh from his murders, just as powerful, but still sharp. Still aware. Still violent. From the very beginning, he becomes more alert when she’s in the room, he leans forward when she talks. He breathes faster when she’s nearby, and he holds her gaze until she gets shivers. 

At first, she wishes he’d say something.

Then he starts talking. And she wishes he’d stayed silent.

[chrism02]

Could i ask for more about Gabriel Duvall? 👉👈 you wrote him so adorable 💜💚

New beginnings - Chapter 5

Tag list: @purplelupins  @eroticaplush @unitedfandomsoftheworld

@reuripotte @overlookedfile @randomfandomtrash28 @littlethief78 

@belladonnaaura @wolfe171 @movieexpert1978 @yesalwayswelles

@jembug28 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @benedicttcumberbabe

@whateverthecostner @redlektor

@imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

[v3nomly]

hiii saw your post abt modern au astarion and how you have requests open🤭 first of all i'm begging you please give us every single astarion thought you have........ kinda obsessed with modern au astarion🤭 could you please give us something about that where astarion still works in the justice system?? i'll never understand why people say he would have a different job, boy is literally born to be a lawyer/judge!! also have a lovely day😽😽😽 if you plan on keeping tabs on your anons may i be a 🍓 anon teehee

Ooo, I love the idea of modern lawyer Astarion. Instantly my brain went feral and threw my mind into the hyperbolic gutter. NSFW additions and a surprise appearance from ascended-adjacent Astarion under the cut. As always let me know if you want me to continue! Either as more thirsty ramble of an actual fic! Also I created a tag for you 🍓 anon! ♡

Astarion is just so charming and beguiling. He has everyone wrapped around his finger in that courtroom. Hanging off every saccharine word he says.

God, he’s just about lying through his teeth, but no one seems to care. He's spinning a careful web of truths and mistruths so intricate and show-stopping that he knows he has the jury right where he wants them.

You’re a bottom-of-the-food chain lawyer. New enough to the scene that you get stuck with all the shitty cases like this one. But veteran enough in the art of assholes to know the type of man Astarion is the moment you see him. The worst type of lawyer, one more befitting the name of a conman. Happy to line his pockets with the misfortune of others.

You couldn’t lie he was captivating. Every utterance of a word was a performance. Every gesture was a dance, and he played the part so well. It is what he does best.

It is when you utter one simple word that he finds his show comes to a halt.

“Objection,” you state voice almost meek, all eyes turn to you, and suddenly the spotlight has shifted.

Of course, the judge dismissed your claims, but it was enough to throw Astarion off his game. Sure, this wasn’t the first time someone had called 'objection', nor would it be the last. Yet, even with your voice as meek as it was your eyes held something he hadn’t witnessed in years. Clarity.

You saw through him, and the revelation almost made him want to laugh. You were refreshing, like an ice-filled cup of water on a sweltering summer day. For the rest of the trial, he gave you a chance to match his dance and god where you beautiful.

Maybe you stumbled or stepped on his toes, but you were merely unpracticed and the thought of you honed, your skills sharpened like a knife, brought a fiery excitement he hadn’t realized he was missing.

I could see him being subtly flirty every moment you were alone during the trail. Something that flustered the hell out of you, but you never let it affect your performance, which only furthered his interest.

When all is said and over, with the defense winning, a very proud and victorious Astarion comes over to shake your hand. Taking the opportunity to pull you just a step closer and invite you for drinks.

You knew better. Certainly knew that a guy like him was trouble, but you didn’t say no. While you wouldn’t admit it, you were somewhat eager to see what else Astarion was capable of. So much so that you had practically brought up the idea of him fucking you in the alley.

Your hands braced you against the wall, allowing you enough resistance to push back into each thrust, allowing Astarion to hit you deeper. His hands held firmly onto your hips, no doubt leaving the imprints of his long fingers on your skin.

"Fuck," you utter your legs wobbling, slowly turning to putty as he brings you closer to the edge. Astarion pauses his hold shifting to better support you. You hear him pant behind you, and you can only assume he's trying desperately to catch his breath. Just as caught up in the steamy exchange as you were. Before he steps back, allows his cock to slip free.

"Turn around, wanna see you, beautiful," the pet name speeds up your already racing heart. They were nothing new, something you had grown used to when his flirtatious remarks had started up, but the cadence of his voice felt more real, intimate.

Turning was a blessing and a curse, and both for the same reason. Astarion was handsome, there was no denying that. An air of royalty surrounded him, so perfectly pristine with so little effort. Now replaced with something just as gorgeous. White curls lay jostled, a few strands stuck to his forehead, pupils blow wide with lust, and lips swollen and bruised with the faintest strain of your lipgloss.

It isn't until he had you in his arms, a leg thrown over each one that you realize how strong he is. In the dim alley, you had only been able to make out the makings of what you assumed were abs, and while you had run your hands along his chest plenty during your initial makeout session you hadn't pegged him to be this fit. Nor did you realize how much you liked being picked up as if you were nothing but a small toy.

Astarion simply asks if you are ready, only waiting for your nod before he's once again buried deep inside you.

He kissed you sloppily, swallowing every breathy moan you let escape your pretty little mouth. Only pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

There was little regret to be had when you let your gaze linger on him. Even as someone walks past the alleys threatening to expose your rendezvous. You think that you wouldn’t mind having him fuck you senseless again.

Dark Astarion

Imagine being his little Legal Secretary who deals with all his boring administrative issues.

Late office hours where he has his hand fisted in your hair, pulling tight, as guides you to choke on his cock. The deep laugh that would rumble through his chest right before he begins to mock you. Astarion would start off sweet with a little tease about how cute you are. Before his mouth would twist into the cocky smirk he wore so often. He’d make you look at him, mouth still placed around his aching length. You meet his eyes and moan around him. In the light, they almost appear red, like a predator ready to devour its prey. A sly fox and his dumb little rabbit.

You think for a second he’s going to praise you. Tell you how good you make him feel, so you look up at him eagerly with big doe eyes. Ready for whatever compliment would slip from his perfect lips.

“You're my personal little pet. Aren’t you darling? Only good for serving me,” he says, with little room for argument. Demeaning and possessive and the best compliment he could ever bestow upon you.

His smirk grows as he observes you squeeze your thighs together, cock growing impossibly harder when he thinks about how wet you’ll be when he has you bouncing on it later.

© 2023 v3nomly do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.

[cherubispunk]

UP IN YOUR ARMS (PROLOGUE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the begining of it all tasted like whiskey and ciggeretes. But smelled of the interrogation room.

a note from Lucy: Helllooooo my lovely Joel Miller enthusiasts! i'm here again, and so are you, with yet another joel au series. this time with a historical twist. wiil it be completely historically accurate? probably not? are we here anyway because its joel fucking miller? yes. yes we are. fair warning, some dark contant will be in later chapters, so if that isnt your cup of rosey lea, feel free to scroll away. if it is, then sit back, relax, enjoy a dry martini and some blues or jazz music on vinyl, and lets have a wild time. Also, a huge thank you is due to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for convicting me to post this. Love you cherub! xxx

playlist

wc: 912 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his 40s), allusions to Smut, smoking, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, being arrested, interrogation scene, references to violence, ww2 references, probably an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged.

series m.list | m.list

“Okay,” Detective Granger sighs opposite you, “Let’s try this again.”

Your knee bounces rapidly under the chrome metal table. If it weren't screwed to the floor it would surely rattle with your antsy movement. Your eyes fall to your lap, the dress you wore tattered with a mix of blood, dust and the smell of Joel’s aftershave. A smell you wish you had with his physicality.

“Please state your name for the record.” He asks. Again. From the moment they put you in cuffs, shoved you in the back of a cop car, and brought you up to the station, you had not uttered a word. Maybe you were scared, or maybe it was the principle of the fact. But the idea that Joel was a few rooms over – not at arm's length – it made you yearn for his touch. To be under the rough pads of his fingertips once more. Weather it be in a grimy motel room, or even the fucking Canary Club back in the cesspool of Boston. 

But you sighed, knowing you aren't going home anytime soon without giving them something. Joel told you to spin it. Tell them the truth with the twist he promised would work. Leave you unscathed. 

So you tell them your name. And then your occupation once they ask for that too; “Singer.” 

The detective looks at his co-worker, raising his brow. He nods back at him, believing you. If only you could unleash the insults that curl and cinder at the tip of your tongue. 

“Okay,” Granger tips his head to the side in acknowledgement of the fact your answers are the truth. What leverage would you have to lie if the very thing you are about to spill is an ever so slight twisting of the truth?

You watch with unblinking eyes as he places a black and white picture upon the table, between you and his now folded hands, “Care to tell us who this is?” 

It’s Joel. You knew they knew that. They just need to confirm their suspicion for the record. For the jury. The court. Your impending trial. So you take a second to study it, hold back a smile at the very sight of his broad shoulders, his tarnishes, creased dress shirt that clings to him like a second skin you wish to ravish him off. Even in the stale air of an interrogation room, through the captured image of a blurred mugshot, he makes the fire in your loins kickstart. Memories of joyrides, money, sex, motel sheets and speakeasy rendezvous. 

You give them a nod, sitting back in your seat.

“Who is he?”

“It’s Joel Miller. ‘Says it right there.” You tap the mugshot with your index finger to prove a point, kissing your teeth with a smug smile. “Or can you pig’s not read?” Venom spills from your words like maroon wine from a shattered glass. 

Detective Granger bites his tongue, leaning forward over the table, hands grasping the lip of it as he stands up, knuckles bleached white under his own grip. 

“Don’t think I ain’t above sending you to a cell with a shiner to your pretty lil’ nose, Doll.” He glared. It didn't seep any deeper than skin though. Didn’t rattle your bones that way Joel’s voice would when he called you a pretty ditzy thing that one time. If he were here the detective's teeth would be splattered across the tile of the floor for saying that. Daring to call you what he did, turning it into something that made your lip curl in disgust. 

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr, Detective.” You pouted, tilting your head at him, doe eyed, sarcastic innocence wrapped around your tongue’s words.

His fist descended down upon the table with a slam, making you flinch. Much to your own dismay. “Just answer the damn question!” 

“Was he your boyfriend?” 

“No.”

Joel was no mere boyfriend. 

He was your lover. Your life. Your glue that mended cracks seen by no other. The man that undressed you and wrapped you up in his warmth. His Texan drawl. Unravelled you between your thighs. Made you lust for anything he did. He was air in your lungs, the smell of cedarwood and musk. Metallic blood on your collarbone and gravel under a cars worn in tires. He was the leather of your car seat. The Egyptian cotton of your sheets. 

But this was where the lie began…

“He was my jailor.” 

Detective Granger’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, your eyes finding him behind the wisp of your lashes. The glassy shine of a tear slipping from your waterline. He furrowed his brow, his thin lips pressing into a thin line below his bushy moustache that curled at the ends. The nostrils of his bulbous nose flared and his jaw ticked under the clenching of his teeth. Once more, you looked into your lap at your folded hands.

He sighed once more, adjusting his grey suit trousers to sit down, holding his tie to his beer belly as he did so. “Can you tell us what happened? Leading up to the crime?” His voice was softer and he winced at the sound of your sniff. How you were so timid all of a sudden like a deer in headlights. 

You nodded, swallowing your own saliva, the walls of your oesophagus grating together like coarse sandpaper. And then you spoke. “I met him when I was living in Boston.”

[oceandiagonale]

Sooo...recently it has been very heavily implied that Penny's father is Peony, which would make Rose her uncle. Which would make her taking her girlfriend, Spare, to a family party even more awkward than normal for various reasons.

"Spare, this is my Uncle-"

"Rose, Ex-Chairman of the Pokemon League of Gallar."

"...of course you already know who he is. Anyway, please don't attack him. Uncle Rose, this is my girlfriend Spare DelRosa, a champion rank of Paldea and Ex-Hero of Arceus."

"...Ex?"

"Dad is an asshole so I quit. Still waiting on child support for Mom, the bum."

okay, I finally looked up where people were pulling that from and whoops, I should probably play the . team star backstory and mochi madness things sometime huh. 😳

anyways this is incredible tbh, can't believe Spare's not only following the Protagonist tradition of dating a former "villain" but also adding onto that by having one of them be her girlfriend's uncle FKJDSHFKJDS

(also this sent me down a thought rabbithole. Is Rose still allowed to stay in Galar? Did he get a trial even though Interpol/The United Regions Court doesn't have jurisdiction over stopping villains? Who decided his sentence? I'm so sorry I'm derailing this and rambling about Rose but it made me think a lot 😳)

I like the Star Trek concept of "jail" only being used as a last resort for people who are currently a danger to people around them and only as a temporary measure while working out some other supports, since the current prison systems all over the real world suck in unique and horrifying ways. But more importantly, I never ever saw that as a viable sentence for any of the villains anyways -- not even Lysandre, so certainly not Rose.

(................jury's still out on Ghetsis, but he's allowed to just wander around Pasio without much fuss so I guess he's fine too as long as someone's keeping an eye on him.)

More importantly, Gene was there to vouch for Rose's honesty about wanting to make it up to Galar. He definitely got community service, but what KIND? And were Archie and Maxie precedent, or did they even get a trial? None of the villains BEFORE them did, and Rose was the first one AFTER them to let himself be "caught."

When Guz first finds out that Archie and Maxie are undermining Lysandre, he says that Gene was happy that they stepped up to do environmental work, which means that the League was the organization taking responsibility for them, NOT Interpol.

But there's never any mention of paperwork regarding them, so I'm pretty sure Steven was just keeping an eye on them from there on out (especially since he was invited to their wedding later).

By the time Rose does his thing (checks watch) 6 years later, there ARE forms for each kind of incident. I'm pretty sure Gene wrote those himself.

So here's my thought: the League was still the organization that "caught" Rose. They were the ones that pressed criminal charges against him, mainly to set a precedent for future incidents (at Rose's request), and he met the same fate as Rose does in the Pieces AU: working in Hoenn as a scientist with Archie and Maxie's team on their environmental project. (Unfortunately, those two are too busy with Ultra Flare to be there much atm.)

After a while, he's able to go back to Galar to work on the energy crisis (with non-League personnel in the Villain Cleanup Division keeping an eye over his shoulder just in case and generally keeping him away from Leon so as not to distress him).

All that to say, yeah. Canon encounter.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

HC on a modern fallout. Like same characters just in now times.

Like Obvs Nick would still be a PI but what of the others? Would factions be a thing still or would they all have normal jobs?

What of the synths?

Modern Fo4 Headcanons

➼ Word Count » 3.3k ➼ Warnings » Spoilers for many character arcs ➼ Genre » Modern AU ➼ A/N » This took me WAY too long, but I had so many things I wanted to write down and expand on.

COMPANIONS [ these are how I imagine them before meeting Nate and Nora, a random couple who just happens to enter into everyone's lives ]

MacCready grew up as an orphan in Virginia where the older kids raised him. He never got adopted and, while he was thankful for the teens who raised him, there was always a sense of abandonment and negativity that he'd always attach with the state. So, when he turned 18, he hitchhiked to Boston, hoping to find a happier and more fulfilling life. It didn't happen as soon as he'd wanted, however, and he bounced from place to place looking for a stable job. His rugged exterior and immature attitude forced him out of a lot of areas, but there was a group that didn't mind any of that. MacCready was ecstatic when the Gunners first picked him up. They gave him jobs, sure, but they had also given him a group he could identify with in the same way he did with the kids back at the Orphanage. After a year of working with them, MacCready met Lucy. He'd originally planned on robbing her, but her name reminded her too much of the Lucy he'd grown up with, and offered to walk he home instead. When they had gotten to her door she asked him about why he was wearing army pants. He jokingly told her that he was in the military who was currently on leave, which she ended up believing. It surprised MacCready since his Gunners tattoo was visible on his arm, but he found her gullibility to be endearing. After that, the two spent a lot of time together, but right after Duncan was born, she pieced together his association with the gang, left him, and quickly moved into an apartment located in a safer area. Heartbroken and consumed with guilt, he quit the gang for good and worked to better himself and clean up his act so that he could be a part of his son's life, and maybe try his relationship with Lucy once more. He does a few odd jobs here and there but, so far, none of them have stuck.

Once Nick's testing was over, the students at CIT didn't know what to do with him other than to let him roam the campus, so he stuck with what he knew - police work. He'd wander the college as an officer, looking for any job or event that could require his help. At first, he was treated more as a Protectron than an actual member of the force, but that never really bothered him, as long as he was actively making people safer, then he was content. What did bother him, however, was the amount of jury trials he had to be present at for being the product of unethical testing. It always made him feel guilty that he was an unconsented clone of the real Nick Valentine's mind, and if he could, he would've chosen not to be created at all. Knowing the amount of pain his existence had caused an actual person made him feel awful, but he'd rather put that energy into his community over hating himself for something that was out of his control. He never really got over the confusion and sadness he had when he thought about who he was but, over time, many of the students began to treat him as if he were a real person. They'd greet him in the mornings, buy him ties on special occasions, and every once in a while someone would bring him coffee, forgetting that he couldn't drink it. His life slowly changed from him not understanding what his purpose was, to becoming a well-respected member in his field. Even the real Nick grew to appreciate him after he helped to hunt down Eddie when no one else wanted to. His memories of DiMA were still there (as it had only been a 2 or 3 decades compared to 2 centuries), but his brother didn't stay with the school, instead opting to discover himself elsewhere. As soon as he was allowed, he left for Maine and made a name for himself as the first robotic philosopher and occasionally sending letters to Nick.

Cait ran away from home at 15 in an attempt to escape the abuse she received from her parents. Scared, alone, and incredibly fragile, she was an easy target for many others on the streets and was taken advantage of both emotionally and sexually by almost anyone who saw her. As the years went by, the more hardened and angry she had become. Finally able to adapt to her surroundings, she stole, fought, and threatened anyone she could. This led her to be put in many juvenile detention centers and child reformat camps, both of which never helped change her view on the world. Still living on the streets at 18, she went and bought her first gun. She thought of going to visit her parents for a while, wondering if it would make some of the pain she felt go away. On the day she decided she was finally ready to go kill them, she ran into Tommy, a sleazy businessman who was desperate to strike it big in the corporate world. Seeing the potential and opportunity that a young, angry, mistreated girl could present to him, he offered her a deal. If she focused her rage into wrestling and let him be her manager, he'd help her get off the streets and really make a name for herself. She agreed and very quickly became one of the best and most well-known wrestlers in Boston, although, most of the press that covers her is about her attitude and allegation regarding her addictions. She still holds onto that shotgun she bought. It reminds her of what could've been and helps her feel a sense of security. She knows no one will take advantage of her again because she now has the means to ensure of it. She's still waiting for the day her parents beg her to take them back so she can tell them off, but they never did. It hurts her more to know that, even now that she's found success for herself, her parents still don't want her. So, until it kills her, she'll drink and inject herself with whatever she can get her hands on, desperate to numb as many of her thoughts as she can until she passes.

Danse was also made at CIT, although he's much more advanced than Nick is. Almost immediately after being created, he left to go to DC where he met Cutler. Cutler was on the verge of homelessness and pitched his idea of starting a small business to Danse who agreed quickly (he had no other plans). They sold odd things they either built or found for a few years before they were approached by a general in the US Army. He was only browsing, but Danse felt compelled by his stories from when he was in combat. There was something about serving his country and defending the common man that he found to be incredible, and so he and Cutler quit their gig and signed up for the army. There've been robots who've joined the military before, but none who made the decision on their own volition. All the others are Assaultrons and Mr. Gutsy, so having one who willingly wanted to be a part of the cause was astounding to many. Cutler eventually got mortally wounded and Danse, who was clearly devasted, was then assigned to work with Haylen and Rhys out of fear that he'd go haywire or malfunction due to the impact of his friends death, and that's where he's been ever since. The memories he'd been given were vague and slightly foggy, but the army gave him something to identify with and a cause to work for. He was prideful in the work he did and, although there were others, he served to be one of the first instances of a robot showing a willingness to fight for his country.

Ever since he was young, Preston had looked up to those who did right by people. At first, he joined a police academy to be an officer, but after a bystander got caught up in one of the scenes he'd been sent to, he quit, deciding that this wasn't something he was cut out to do. The guilt of not being able to successfully protect an innocent civilian eats away at him, so, in an attempt to make it up to himself, he went into hospice care. At least here he knows the deaths aren't his fault and that all the people he cares for have lived long, fulfilling lives. Currently, he's caring for the long-time addict, Mama Murphy (who still manages to sneak a few pills into the room every now and again). Preston adores her, but every once in a while she'll tell him about a dream she's had where the world had ended and he played a part in rebuilding it. He can't let her describe it for long, though, otherwise she'll start to panic and he'll have to grab her medication to help calm her down, and he hates having to give her drugs. Luckily he knows that she's just and elderly woman suffering from schizophrenia and none of what she says about a war torn world holds any truth. As much trouble as she causes him, Preston isn't sure what he's going to do when she's gone. He only hopes that it doesn't shatter him as much as the bystander incident did.

Codsworth still operates under Sole's roof in taking care of Shaun and the home. Nothing changes with him, however, when he went to drop Shaun off at college for the first time, he met Nick, and the two got along quite well! Whenever he goes to visit Shaun with the family he always makes sure to stop by to chat with the detective.

Piper runs a very controversial newsstand right in the heart of Boston. There are so many authorities and higher-ups whose reputations have been ruined due to her articles, and even with a mob of protestors against her, she still does whatever she wants. She grew up in a smaller town on the outskirts of Massachusetts before she managed to work up enough cash to get herself and Nat to the city, where she could finally begin to look for work to support them both. However, she quickly found that the 'big city' had many issues on its own and, since then, she was dead set on bringing people's attention to them. She doesn't care about the death threats or riots that sometimes occur outside her home. The police know her well enough by now to keep an eye out in her neighborhood. Especially Nick, who met her once while she set up a debate booth on campus and interviewed students for an article she planned on publishing. She's not rich by any means, but she loves her job. And, to her, there's no better feeling than that. She's just praying Nat isn't as prone to controversy as she is.

Curie was placed in a research facility where she helped to test and study different diseases with a group of other doctors before being places in a hospital. She mainly cares for sick children but is reveled to be one of the best doctors as she doesn't need to sleep or take any breaks. She adores her job and never stops working on cures and medicine for her patients. When she heard about the synths being created at CIT, she asked her supervisors if she could swap bodies so she could better fit in with the rest of her coworkers, as well as be able to hold vials and syringes better. They agreed and got her a custom made body for her to subvert her subconscious into. Eventually, when he's older, Shaun will come into her clinic in hopes of having his cancer fully treated, but that'll be years from now when he's in his 70s.

Even though Strong isn't affected by the FEV in this timeline, he still holds that same barbaric and thuggish aura. He's not affiliated with any gangs, but he's no stranger to violence and lives in the part of town where shootings happen the most often. Despite his intimidating stature and hostile disposition, he still frequents the local libraries. More often than he'd care to admit. He loves old literature and has a bit of a soft spot for anyone who likes it too. He claims she's overexaggerating, but Daisy will usually sit and listen to him ramble for hours about the beauty and symbolism littered throughout Shakespeare's plays or Lovecraft's short stories.

Hancock is a well-known politician who is loved as much as he is hated. Ever since Piper outed him for his drug addiction and put into question his validity and dedication to his cause, he's been somewhat of a controversial figure in the political world. Despite it all, he has no ill feelings toward Piper or Publick Occurrences and is constantly hyping it up as a reliable news source. Although he owns quite a bit of cash, he's constantly pouring it into the slums of Boston. Some think this is just a publicity stunt to make up for his occasional violent outbursts (the drugs do a number on him since he's not a ghoul), he does it because he genuinely believes it's right for him to do. Besides, the people are friendlier there. Now his biggest concern is building up his reputation again so he can beat his brother when they run for mayor against one another. Him and his secretary, Fahrenheit, have a lot planned for the city and they'd like to see those ideas become reality as quickly as they can manage.

No one's really sure who Deacon is, and some are cautious of him for it. One thing that is certain about him is that he's a massive history buff, and is almost always in a museum of some kind. His favorite past time is striking up conversation with strangers who probably just want to be left alone while they browse the artifacts displayed, but he doesn't really care. Eventually, he happens to start a conversation with Nate and Nora in the Museum of Freedom and he quickly integrates himself into the couple lives. Him and Barbara like to show up spontaneously on their doorstep with a pack of beers in their hands and grins on their faces, but surely they don't mind.. even if they still have no idea what he does for a living.

X6-88 is another one who doesn't change much. He works as security for CIT along with Nick, and few other courser's, although none of them are as approachable as the detective seems to be. He's very strict about his job and carries it out very well, however, when Shaun eventually begins to attend the college, they sorta hit it off? Not really because either of them are particularly kind to one another, but more so because they like it when people are straight forward, intelligent, and blunt and they both just so happen to be that.

Dogmeat’s a stray that everyone seems to know. Officially, he’s Mama Murphy’s, but most everyone claims him. He appears whenever someone's in distress or wherever his owner's vision take him. He's a mysterious dog with strange motives.

Old Longfellow lives as a fisherman up in Maine. Nothing particularly changes with him, he's still got the same closed off personality that he'd always had. His wife got sick and died and few years back, but his daughter went and became and engineer in a similar area to DiMA. Longfellow thinks DiMA's a kook but his daughter thinks he's a scientific masterpiece and will often ask him questions about his creation or how his mind was built.

Gage grew up around gang violence and quickly learned to steal, lie, and hurt to get the things he wanted. He never really lived in a stable home and mostly just squatted or camped wherever he could. Despite living in poverty, whenever he and his friends managed to scrap together enough money together, they'd hitch a ride to Nuka World and spend the day there. He grew to have a soft spot for the amusement park as he got older, and took up a maintenance job for them (they don't do background checks.. or any skill checks for that matter, but Gage is a quick learner.)

MAJOR FACTIONS + SYNTHS

The synths operate in society along with the other robots of the fallout universe. But, unlike the Protectrons, they can actually hold conversations. Because of that, they normally take on your regular lower-class to lower-middle-class jobs. They don't tend to be rich at all in their lifetimes due to the stigma around treating them exactly like humans. A lot of those opportunities have been stripped away from them for those exact reason. Some of them still manage to find ways around it, but it's a lot harder than how it'd be if they were a regular human. For instance, synths can't start businesses on their own. Many argue that it's because they're just not meant to do anything on their own and that they were created to help humans, but no one can give an argument on how them doing their own thing would harm them either.

The Railroad is the main group that's actively against the stereotypes and discrimination faced by the synths. Although, they've received a lot of backlash for naming themselves after a former anti-slavery group (many don't think it's fair to compare 1800s racism to whether or not bots can work higher-paying jobs), they've still become a huge relief to many synths who are desperate to be treated the same as any other person would.

The Institute is just a college in the modern age. Despite them receiving some backlash from the public about whether or not the practice of creating human-like bots, arguing that it's too 'Frankenstein-like', the students and professors still continue to build and work to make more and more realistic, artificial creatures and beings. Mr. House helps to fund their research as he finds it useful and because he also went their for school.

The Minutemen don't exist. There's no need when you have the police force, the fire department, and properly operating Protectrons active in the community. Most of hose who were a part of this faction have taken up community-centered jobs like farming or social work.

The Brotherhood of Steel continue to exist as the US Military. They're more focused on defending the country than they are preserving technology and the only places you’ll see one is in military bases or along the coast.

MINOR FACTIONS

The Atom Cats (along with Sturges) are a group of young adults who work at the local Harley Davidson. Tuesdays and Thursdays they host poetry night and generally just open the place up as a garage for anyone interested in mechanics or just hanging out with a bunch of strangers.

Raiders and Gunners are just the Bloods and Crips of the modern world. They stick with their own groups and despise anyone from the opposite side of the tracks. Shoot outs and common between them and it's best to not be associated at all if you can help it.

The Children of Atom are a strange and niche group of zealots that migrated from somewhere in Virginia to spread their gospel. No one’s sure who they are or what they want, but they’re attracted to the pollution cities bring and generally advocate for the betterment of the earth.

Ever since DiMA's arrival, Acadia's national park has turned into a debate ground for different thoughts and philosophies. People from all over the world come to visit to talk and discover other points of views. There's even a Atomite Pastor that frequents the area and promotes the newly found religion with those who are willing to listen. A strange place for stranger people.

[robo-milky]

…Jurors! Jingle Bells AU…

Rollo and Cloche somehow are always in the same trials together, while everyone else is a different roster of the 21 NRC boys. They constantly clash heads and have differing opinions, so it’s not much of an issue. Rollo being the one person to drag everyone behind, the moment magic is introduced into the equation. Cloche begrudgingly playing diplomat between Rollo and the others for the sake of a unanimous decision…

“Do you have to bring up unlicensed practice of magic, again? I thought we decided that it was irrelevant to the case.”

“A crime is still a crime. Is this not another indicator that the defendant has no regard for the law?”

Why the hell is Mr. Fleur City eligible for Sage Island’s jury? Ummm just a silly AU guys, let’s not think too hard about it

[Edit] PLEASE- IT’D BE SO FUNNY IF SAGE ISLAND’S JURY IS LIKE A SMALL TOWN JURY-